Renegades
by Hystericul
Summary: I've been different my entire life; it's hard to remember a time when I was normal. At "23", I ran from my old life of magic & the supernatural & traded it for a new one in a new city. I didn't realize that secret government organizations, supervillains, Gods, & a family of the most amazing group of heroes you can ever find came with the deal. I think I'm done running now; Steve/OC
1. Prologue

**AN:** Hola, Imprudence here, I changed my username to Hystericul because well, I'm using this username for all most of my other things so I thought, why not line them all up so it's easier to remember. So sorry this isn't an update for my TVD story _Not With Haste_ … I'm experiencing a bit of a writer's block because I'm not entirely sure whether I want to head AU all the way yet or not… Like, I've planned what I want after the fic finishes but I'm having a bit of a tough time getting there...

Also, my HP story is going on a bit of a hiatus as I plan out whether I want to start from Philosopher's Stone or Prisoner of Azkaban; decisions, decisions, decisions.

So, in the meantime, I have decided to start another fic that I had originally planned on writing later on after I've gotten my _Not With Haste_ fic completed. There's two major spoilers relating to my other fic, but I plan on writing the process of my OC getting there, so no worries.

This fic will start before the first Avengers movie and will eventually cover the movie itself, featuring my OC Kaycee Gilbert from my other fic titled _Not With Haste_ of course.

Hope you guys like it :))

* * *

 _New York City, New York._

 _Kaycee POV_

What would you do if one day, someone were to tell you that you weren't completely human?

What would you do if someone were to tell you that the fate of the world rested in your hands?

What would you do if someone were to tell you that un-humanly monsters existed? Monsters from your worst nightmares?

Would you believe them?

I used to not believe it either; but as they say, seeing is believing.

I am now a believer of all things supernatural because I _am_ supernatural; a hybrid if you must. Half vampire, half angel. Half bad, half good. I am the only one of my kind; there will never be any more like me, ever.

New York was supposed to be my fresh start; a city so big I was supposed to be able to shed my old self and start anew. If only things would always go your way. Being a vampire-angel hybrid, I'm cursed with an eternity of bloodlust that must be quenched. New York is an easy place to feed, I must admit. There are so many people around that it's easy for me to blend in, hide in plain sight. Even though I need blood to survive, I still refuse to drink from innocent people unless absolutely necessary. My solution? I drink from the criminals and the scum of New York; sadly, there's a lot of them.

* * *

I was seated in a club; the name long forgotten, sipping a glass of whiskey. The music pounded in my eardrums and the lights were a bit of an annoyance but I kept my focus on a man and a woman six feet away from me. The man was my target. He was a jerk that roofied girls and would drag them to the back alleys of the bars to rape them. He was so good at what he does that the police couldn't pin the rapes on him. I only managed to track him down after digging around in his victim's minds. The victims refused to talk; he had threatened their lives if they spoke to the police, he'd kill them. He was dangerous, unstable, and extremely feared.

I guess that's a perk of being me, I don't scare easily anymore. Believe me, you wouldn't either if you've gone up against the King of Hell himself one on one; after seeing all that I've seen, going through all that I have, humans don't faze me.

His name was Alex Davis; model citizen, six figure job, handsome, charming, and a sociopath. Women were easily fooled, they would see a charming man in a suit and not think twice. Humans are far too trusting for their own good.

His strategy was the same; chat up the girl, get her to trust him, and when she left to go to the restroom, he'd shift his hand and slip a roofie in her drink. The girl would return, drink it and for all intents and purposes appear drunk. Being the gentlemanly character he is, he would offer to call her a cab and lead her outside. There, he'd get her to the alley, beat and rape her, threaten her than leave her there to be found hours later.

The girl he was talking to now would be the 7th victim; but that wouldn't happen, not on my watch.

I was slightly worried, the girl was getting more and drunk as the night wore on and she showed no signs of leaving to go the washroom any time soon. If she kept this up, he wouldn't need a roofie to get her to leave with him. Sighing, I raised the whiskey glass to my lips and threw back the contents before rising and approaching the duo. Luckily, I had a few tricks up my sleeve.

I approached the duo and grabbed the girl's shoulder, her eyes faced mine; perfect.

"Hey, sorry to bug you," I began compelling, "but your friend is being really sick in the bathroom, you should go there and help her out."

She looked confusedly at me and repeated, "My friend's sick in the bathroom, I should go help her out. Excuse me." She said to Alex, hiccupping as she grabbed her purse and hobbled over to the bathroom.

"Sorry about that." I said grinning sheepishly at him. He didn't look like he minded a bit, his eyes raked up and down my body and down my legs, hungrily taking in my skin-tight black mini-dress and the 4 inch black stilettos on my feet.

Gross.

"Not a problem at all, I wouldn't have met a pretty girl like you otherwise." He said smoothly as he sipped his martini. "What's your name, gorgeous?"

"Kaycee, pleasure to meet you." I said offering my hand to shake.

"Alex, the pleasure's all mine." He said kissing my knuckles. "Join me for a drink?"

"I was just planning on heading out, but I can be persuaded." I said batting my eyelashes and tilting my head a little to the side.

"Let me buy you a drink, darling. I insist." He said before motioning the bartender over. "What would the lady like?"

"Oh, I'll take a cocktail." I said, sitting on the bar stool. I noticed his eyes following my every movement, fixed on my legs as I cross them in front of me.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here alone?" he asked exuding confidence.

"I was stood up by a blind date." I said shrugging nonchalantly.

"I find it hard to believe that someone would stand up a woman as beautiful as you." He said as he passed the cocktail over to me, subtly dropping a roofie inside.

"Oh, I don't mind," I said sipping the drink. "I was looking for some fun tonight anyway." I said smiling coyly.

"My place isn't far from here," he said smirking suggestively at me. "I'm a _very_ fun person." He said as he placed his hand on my inner thigh, his fingers inching higher and higher.

I smiled before downing the cocktail in one gulp. I subtly felt the haze of the roofie and knew I'd have to feed fast before I was affected too much.

I grabbed his hand that was on my thigh, "Lead the way." I said looking up at him through my eyelashes.

He downed the rest of the drink and got up, adjusted his tux and grabbed me by the waist leading me out the club. I pretended to stumble a bit and he tightened his hold on my waist.

"I'm feeling a little dizzy… It's not too far, right?" I said slurring.

"Almost there, gorgeous." He said cheerfully. "Lightweight." He said smirking under his breath. I fought the urge to roll my eyes as he led me deep into the alley. At least we'd have some privacy as I fed.

Without warning, he shoved me against the wall and began hungrily kissing up and down my neck. He forced my legs open with his as he pinned my arms above my head.

"What – what are you doing?" I asked weakly, feigning shock.

He pulled a knife out of nowhere and held it to my throat. "You're not going to make a noise and stand there and let me fuck you, alright? If you scream I'll kill you right here. If you tell the cops, I'll find you and I will kill you. Got it, bitch?" he snarled.

I nodded, fake tears streaming from my eyes. He smirked and stepped away from me his hands fumbling with his pants. In a split second I had pinned him to the wall by the throat and knocked the knife away. His eyes widened in shock.

"What – how – you're…" he stammered.

"Picked the wrong girl to try and roofie Alex." I said tutting, rolling my eyes.

"How do you know my name?!" he asked terrified.

"I know everything about you, what you did to those women, what you were going to do to me." I trailed off.

"No, you're wrong I'd never do – "

"Shut up." I compelled. "You're going to stand very still and not make a sound, understood?"

"I'm going to stand very still and not make a sound…" he said monotone.

"Atta boy." I said, letting my vampire face melt to the surface. I bit into his neck and began hungrily drinking his blood.

When I had finished, I retracted my fangs and licked the remaining blood off my lips.

"Now listen up," I said looking into his eyes once more. "You're going to forget our entire encounter tonight, you're going to leave this alley and turn yourself into the police and confess to all the women that you've raped and any other crime that you've committed. You're going to cooperate with all police investigations and you're going to pay for what you did. You were planning on raping another person tonight but you grew a conscience and decided that you were a monster and that you cannot do this anymore. Any questions?"

"I'm going to forget this encounter, I'm going to turn myself in to the police for all the women I've raped and for any other crime I've committed, I'm going to cooperate with all police investigations, I'm going to pay for what I've done. I grew a conscience and felt guilty after trying to seduce and rape another girl…" he replied.

"Perfect," I said smiling, pressing two fingers to his neck and concentrating. A faint blue light pulsed from my fingertips and healed the puncture marks. "Well, get going." I said wiping away any excess blood as I stood back and watched him walk determinedly to the police station.

I closed my eyes, focused, and a heartbeat later I found myself teleported into my loft. I padded over to the bathroom and let the dress slip off my body, I was due for a very long shower to wash away his scent from my body.

I thought I was careful, I thought that I had covered my tracks well, I thought that I had managed to put my past behind me; it wasn't until later that I realized just how wrong about everything I was.

* * *

AN: Bam, prologue-y thing done. #itsallconnected , don't forget guys. As always, reviews are much appreciated. The next chapter will be up soon when I finish proofreading it.


	2. The Beginning

**AN:** Here's Chapter 1! Ooh I love this one, it jumps POVs (sorry) but I really like how this turned out! On a side note, has anyone started watching Jessica Jones on Netflix? I'm swamped at the moment with school but I plan on bingeing it during winter break, I've heard that it's really good so I'm excited ^_^

Also, this is my fastest update, like ever. The next one probably won't be this fast but it will be out soon!

Also x2: **Civil. War. Trailer.** If you haven't watched it yet, go do it; seriously. Go.

* * *

 _New York City, New York; 12_ _th_ _Precinct_

 _3rd_ _Person POV  
-_

Reception was always a dull job, telling people to wait, hold, calm down; there was no way that receptionists get paid decently enough for all their troubles. The 12th Precinct always got so much traffic; housing the number one and two homicide detectives of the entire state of New York was a feat in itself. Which also meant that the 12th Precinct was in charge of an area that had the most homicides in all of New York.

This week, the Precinct was abuzz not because of a serial killer; for once, but because of a rapist. The man had come into the Precinct a bit past 2 am spewing on about how he needed to confess for his crimes. This man claimed to have raped 6 women and began spewing off times, places, descriptions, before the detectives could even comprehend what he was talking about.

Eric was on reception for the week, being late to Parade Monday morning had automatically assigned him the unfortunate job of dealing with the public who entered the Precinct. If he knew that the week would be this stressful he would seriously not have hit snooze as many times as he did.

When the man; Alex Davis' story turned out to be true, his rape victims began speaking up and the media had a field day. The 12th was getting so much attention, too much attention. People began flocking in claiming that they had been a victim of his as well and that they could have sworn that he was behind a slew of other crimes; robberies, break and enters. If the crowds weren't bad, the riots were worse. People demanded justice be served and when the People wanted something done, they were vocal and pretty adamant about it. Even after he had been arrested and charged, he still remained unable to attend court because people somehow always managed to figure out what days he would be transported and they would flock the transport van, throwing things, screaming profanities. His transfer had to keep being pushed back, not only for his safety but for the people's as well.

Eric admired the People's response, it was nice that people were for once united for an issue that needed addressing, but he also found it excessively harder to do his job because of it.

Friday afternoon eventually came around; Eric was glad, Alex Davis was being transported that very night while everyone was hopefully having too much fun partying it up downtown to care. In just a few hours, he'd be free.

At a quarter to 9, Eric noticed a shadow fall over his desk as he was in the midst of completing Davis' transfer papers.

"I'm here to see Alex Davis." A distinctly female voice said, authoritatively.

"He's not being interviewed until he's formally charged. No one can see him, sorry ma'am." Eric replied, engrossed in his report.

"I wasn't exactly asking…" the voice replied. "Agent Alesia Dixon, FBI."

Eric furrowed his brows and looked up. He scanned the badge thrust in front of him and his eyes flickered to the Agent. She had long flaming red hair, a stern expression, and was dressed immaculately.

"I wasn't aware the FBI wanted to see him." Eric said quizzically.

"We believe that the man you have in custody is involved in a string of other assaults across the country. When you guys arrested him, it raised some red flags on our end." Agent Dixon replied, tucking the badge back into her jacket pocket.

"I'm not supposed to let anyone in –" Eric began saying.

"Here, call my superior if you must. If you still refuse to cooperate, I will have to charge you with interfering with a federal investigation." She said sliding a card over the desk.

Eric picked up the phone receiver and dialed, his eyes trained on the Agent. _She's good,_ he thought; _her face betrays no emotions. Professionalism at its finest, definitely FBI, if not some other government organization._

He was shaken out of his reverie by a voice across the receiver.

"Hello, this is Officer Eric Smithson of the 12th Precinct in New York City, New York. You have an Agent Dixon here to –" Eric paused, listening. "Yes, yes sir I understand. I had to follow protocols – Yes of course. Right away – no, no trouble at all. Yes, thank you – alright, no problem. Good bye."

"I just need 2 minutes with him." Agent Dixon said.

"Yes of course, head on up, I'll ring the Detective in charge to let him know."

"Thank you Officer Smithson." She replied, a hint of a smile graced her face.

Agent Dixon walked up the stairs and was promptly met with two detectives chatting.

"Agent Dixon, FBI. I'm here to speak with Alex Davis regarding some assaults we believe he may have committed." She said pulling out her badge once more.

"I'm the Detective in charge," the one of the left said. "Detective Keen, I wasn't aware the Feds were getting involved." He said confusedly.

"I just have two questions to ask him, that's all." She replied.

"Excuse me a moment, Agent." Detective Keen said pulling out the phone that began buzzing in his pocket. "Keen. Yeah she's here – Don't say huh? – Alright – Got it. Yup. Follow me." He said pocketing his phone and gesturing for Agent Dixon to follow him.

He led her to an elevator and pushed the button for the basement.

"He's done this somewhere else, eh?" Detective Keen said breaking the silence.

"That's classified, but he is a Person of Interest in a string of assaults across the country." Agent Dixon replied.

"Lucky break he turned himself in, huh?"

"Mm, lucky." She replied dryly.

"He's a talker now, I'm warning ya." Detective Kinney said as they exited the elevator and walked to the holding cells. "Here he is." He said gesturing to the sole occupant.

Alex Davis was seated on the cot, his hands in his head but he looked up quizzically when the duo approached.

"What can I help you with now officers?" He asked

"Agent Dixon wants to ask you a few questions if that's alright with you Davis." Detective Keen said.

"Anything. What would you like to know Agent?" Davis replied.

"The day that you turned yourself in, do you remember what you were doing before you came to the Precinct?" Agent Dixon asked.

"I was trying to seduce a girl and –"

"I read your file, I know all that, anything else? Did you see someone that night?" Agent Dixon pressed.

"No Agent, sorry I didn't." Davis replied.

"Don't worry about it, why did you turn yourself in?"

"I began feeling guilty for what I did and –"

"Alright, that's all I needed to know. Thank you Mr. Davis, thank you Detective, that's all I wanted." Agent Dixon said.

"He didn't even tell you anything! Thought you had more questions than that." Detective Keen said shrugging as he led the way back to the elevator.

"He's not the guy, there was no need to question him further."

"You sure about that? I mean he's a rapist and all –"

"I'm positive, thank you for escorting me. Best get back to work, my superiors in Washington would like to know that Mr. Davis isn't our guy."

"G'night Agent Dixon." Detective Keen called watching as she walked down the main hall out the doors.

When Agent Dixon exited the precinct, she quickly walked towards her Audi parked down the street. Looking left and right, she quickly unlocked the car and climbed in. She booted up the built in interface of her S.H.I.E.L.D issued vehicle and dialed the 1st number. As she pulled away from the curb, the person on the opposite end picked up.

"This is Romanoff, we've got another one, boss."

* * *

 _S.H.I.E.L.D Base, Undisclosed Location_

 _3_ _rd_ _Person POV  
-_

Director Nick Fury was not a patient man. If there was one thing he hated, it was waiting. Yet here he was, in the Conference Room, twiddling his thumbs as he waiting for his trusted Agents to make their way there. He absentmindedly fingered the folder on the table in front of him. Director Fury was among America's top spies and he played the part exceptionally well. He was fair, unattached, determined; all qualities that make up a top spy. The folder on the table was most troubling, 'CLASSIFIED: LEVEL 10' stamped in large, bold, red letters across the front. This file had been a cause of worry for Director Fury for quite some time now; and Director Fury doesn't worry.

He was brought out of her reverie by a knock on his door.

"Enter." He said curtly. In walked four of his most trusted agents; his right hand Agent Maria Hill, his closest friend Agent Phil Coulson, and his two most exceptional field agents: Agent Natasha Romanoff aka. Black Widow and Agent Clint Barton aka. Hawkeye. "Thank you for coming agents." He said gesturing for them to take a seat.

After they had been seated, he began. "Agent Romanoff, report on the intel you've gathered." He said.

"Starting about six months ago, New York City got a new vigilante of sorts." Agent Romanoff said as she turned on the conference table and a hologram appeared. "There was a sharp increase in crime being pulled off the streets." She said waving her hands as dozens of case files opened up. "We initially dismissed them, but eventually one of our analysts began noticing a pattern. The criminals being taken off the street were street thugs, gangsters, rapists, assaulters…" As she spoke, a holographic projection of each criminal appeared.

"How many are we talking about?" Agent Coulson questioned.

"Hundreds." Agent Romanoff deadpanned. "Agent Barton and I have been chasing down leads for six months and we believe we know what all these guys have in common."

"Besides being really bad guys." Agent Barton piped up causing Romanoff and Hill to roll their eyes, Coulson to smirk, and Fury to shoot him a glare.

"They all interacted with one person, shortly before they all turned themselves in for their crimes; this woman." Agent Romanoff said as various pictures were displayed on the screen in different angles showing a fraction of a face.

"Facial recognition was difficult because she knows how to avoid looking directly into cameras, but we got some S.H.I.E.L.D techs to piece together what we believe to be her face thank to the snippets we've gotten." Agent Hill said, waving her hands as the fragments joined together to form a face. "Meet Kaycee Gilbert from Mystic Falls, Virginia. She was a caring student, a beloved daughter, friend, and was checked into rehab for substance abuse problems in her mid-teens."

"Was..?" Coulson asked, curiously.

"She died, about a year and a half ago." Fury said opening the folder and pulling out a death certificate. "The full autopsy, cause of death, even the location of her grave were all seized."

"But that's impossible!" Coulson exclaimed comparing the pictures in the file to those on the hologram.

"TSA has her coming in JFK a little over six months ago." Hill added pulling up the security camera footage. "Right around the time punks started confessing to crimes that they committed."

"We're sure it's the same girl?" Coulson asked.

"It appears to be. For all intents and purposes, she's supposed to be dead but here she is walking around the streets of New York getting thugs to confess to crimes they've committed." Fury said. "I won't complain to cleaning up the streets of dirt bags, but what worries me is that we still don't know how she managed to do it."

"You gotta admit, the girl's good." Clint said. "She managed to take out 15 percent of New York's outstanding thugs in six months; the NYPD have been on these guys for years and still weren't able to crack them."

"Because of that, we've pulled everything we got on her." Hill said, bringing up the file on the hologram. "She's currently enrolled as a freshman at NYU majoring in History. She owns a loft in Brooklyn and gets monthly transfers into her bank account, most likely from a trust fund of some sort."

"How do we get close to her?" Coulson asked.

"The last History Professor in the History department of NYU retired last year, we combed our S.H.I.E.L.D databases and luckily found an Agent who has a degree in History." Agent Hill said, looking pointedly at Agent Coulson.

"You want me to go teach at NYU." Agent Coulson said skeptically.

"Phil, you are the only one qualified to do so and we need a man on the inside." Director Fury replied.

"Why not." Agent Coulson said smiling. "What's my assignment?"

"Get close to Ms. Gilbert, gather whatever intel you can get on her. Agents Romanoff and Barton will coordinate 24/7 surveillance on her." Director Fury replied.

"Copy." Agent Romanoff said stoically.

"Sure thing, sir." Agent Barton replied.

"I'm assuming Maria's coordinating my stay at NYU then?" Agent Coulson asked amusedly.

"Wouldn't have it any other way Phil." Agent Hill replied.

"Be careful, we don't know the extent of her powers yet so be cautious, don't take unnecessary risks, and watch your backs." Director Fury reminded. "She has the makings to be either our greatest threat or out greatest ally."

* * *

 _New York City, New York: Loft._

 _Kaycee POV_

 _Beep! Beep! Beep! … Beep! Beep! Bee–_

I groaned as I slammed my hand down against the offending alarm clock, crushing it in the process.

"Dammit." I cursed as I burrowed under my pillows once more knowing that I'd have to buy another one.

After screaming into my pillow, I rolled over and got out of bed. I would have loved to sleep in but I couldn't afford to be late on my first day of college at NYU. Excited was an understatement; NYU had been my dream college since _forever_ and I still couldn't believe that I had gotten in.

"Right, focus Kaycee." I chastised myself as I looked in the mirror and combed through my now shoulder-length hair. After having long hair for my entire life, finally cutting it a year ago felt oddly liberating. I felt like a new person despite having looked 18 years old for the past 5 and a half years of my current life.

After applying minimal makeup, I grabbed a blood bag from the fridge and sipped it. My nose wrinkled at the coldness but I couldn't afford to grab a warm meal until after classes. After finishing the bag and throwing it into the trash, I stood in front of the mirror and pictured an outfit. With a snap of my fingers, said outfit was now on my body, my pyjamas folded neatly on the bed behind me.

"Definitely the best trick Gabriel taught me." I said smirking as I turned in front of the mirror to make sure that I had pictured it properly. I was now dressed in black leather high-waisted leggings, a light blue lace overlaid crop top, a caramel-coloured leather jacket, brown combat boots and grey woolen socks. I made my way over to my vanity and slipped on a teardrop necklace, diamond-studded earrings, some silver bracelets and my lapis lazuli daylight ring. I technically didn't need it, but it was beautifully crafted and reminded me of Elijah and my old home.

When I was satisfied with my appearance, I grabbed a few notebooks, my laptop and my pencil case and stuffed them into my Hershel backpack. I slung it over my shoulders, grabbed my phone, plugged the earbuds in and popped them into my ears as I exited my loft, making sure that the door was locked behind me.

With the earphones popped in my ears, I made my way to New York's famous subway on my way to my first day of college; blissfully unaware of all that was to happen.  
`

 _Downtown New York City, New York_

 _Kaycee POV_

I made it downtown with about fifteen minutes to spare; luckily too because I was busy taking in its entirety in awe. The campus and downtown itself were both beautifully breathtaking, a perfect balance between the modern and the vintage. The buildings meshed well with the reds, oranges, and yellows of the autumn leaves. I wanted to simply stand there all day and watch as the student and normal life around me continued. Time felt like it stood still as I walked around the campus; one of my greatest dreams had been achieved and it was a euphoric feeling.

As I walked around the buildings to my lecture hall, my heightened senses were working on overdrive. There were so many new scents that assaulted my nostrils, so many sounds assaulting my ears. I took a deep breath. I had been practicing self-control since the early 100s, right around the time that present me got thrust back in time almost 2000 years and was forced to live out the years biding my time for my timeline to re-converge in itself.

It's a _very_ long story.

I counted to five and my senses dulled themselves slightly, no longer focusing on all conversations and scents at once. Pulling up the campus map on my phone, I began walking to my very first class of the year; History 100. I was intrigued as to who the new professor was going to be. When I signed up for the class, the search for a professor was still pending. Completely lost in thought, I didn't notice that I had knocked into a petite girl almost knocking her over completely.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, eyes wide in fear. At 5'7, I wasn't the tallest around and I wasn't exactly built very muscularly either so it was really hard to explain my vampire strength.

"It was my fault, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going." She said laughing lightheartedly as she picked up her fallen notebooks. "I'm Miranda, by the way."

"Kaycee." I said. "Sorry about your coffee…" I said sheepishly as I glanced at the cup's contents strewn all over the floor.

"It was crappy and cheap anyway." She said shrugging.

"I'll buy you a new one." I said rummaging through my bag for my wallet.

"Class is starting soon, we can go later." She said waving her hand dismissively. "Where you headed?"

"227 for History 100."

"Shut up. No way, History Major?" She asked laughing.

"Yeah…" I said uncertainly.

"Don't look so scared," she joked. "I'm a History Major and I've got History 100 first too."

"Wow, small world."

"You got that right. Well, come on then! To History 100!" she said grabbing my arm and dragging me to class.

"Okay, okay, I'm going!"

"Sorry if I'm a little pushy, it's just who I am and I could really use a friend in a new city but that probably wasn't the best way to go about it..." she said as she left of my arm as we walked down the path.

"Don't worry about it," I said laughing. "You remind me of my best friend from back home; Caroline, she's a lot like you."

"Thank god, I was scared I was coming off too strong."

"You were." I joked.

"Oh shut up." She said laughing as she hit me lightly on the shoulder.

"So where're you from?" I asked as we eventually reached the building and began climbing the stairs.

"I was born in Idaho but we moved to Portland when I was like six." She said. "How about you?"

"Very small town in Virginia." I replied. "It's not even on most maps." I said laughing. I wanted to say that Mystic Falls was hidden by magic by most maps but Miranda seemed normal and I didn't want my first friend to go running for the hills.

"Small town girls in the Big Apple." She joked.

"Please, Portland is hardly small."

"Everyone knows everyone somehow. Talk about awkward relationships and break ups." She said wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"I know what you mean." I said shaking my head in embarrassment. "We're here." I said pointing to the worn down mahogany door with a small brass '227' plaque nailed at the top.

"Let's get this over with." She said as she reached across me and pulled open the door. Inside, there were about 100 desks and an open stage at the front with a projector placed smack dab in the middle. About five dozen heads turned to us as we entered. I knew that the History classes were small but I wasn't expecting them to be _this_ small.

"It's like being in a small town all over again." I said in awe.

"Well, small classes usually does mean better teachers." She pointed out. "Let's take a seat, maybe that'll get everyone to stop staring." She joked.

"Sure." I replied and began making my way down the aisles. "Front seats aren't taken yet…" I said uncertainly.

"Why not? First impressions right?" she said smiling as she lightly tugged on my arm and led me down to the first row.

I took a seat right in the middle with Miranda seated beside me and the rest of the class behind me. I nervously yet excitedly pulled out my laptop and turned it on, preparing to take notes. As I waited to sign in, the mahogany door swung open once more and a man in his forties walked in. He was dressed in a smart plain suit, white shirt and your typical black tie. He had rectangular glasses and a receding brown hair-line. He carried a simple briefcase and walked with confidence, smiling at the students as he passed them.

He reached the front of the class, walked up on stage, set his briefcase down and turned to the class.

"Good morning everyone, I'm Professor Coulson and I'm going to be your new History 100 teacher."

* * *

 _S.H.I.E.L.D Base; Undisclosed Location_

 _3_ _rd_ _Person POV  
-_

Once he had made sure that Coulson was integrating well in NYU life, Hill was on comms, and Romanoff and Barton were successfully tracking the subject, Director Fury retired to his office and ordered that he not be disturbed unless a war was breaking out.

Closing the door behind him and making sure it was locked, Fury crossed to his desk and took out the Toolbox and the manila folder on Kaycee Gilbert. Unlocking the Toolbox, he searched through the holograms before he found the file he was looking for.

 **NAME(S):** _DINAH MIKAELS, MARIE FORBES, MARIE BENNETT, KARINA PETROVA, MARIE MIKAELS, KARINA SMITH, DINAH LOCKE, DINAH SMITH, AMBER GILBERT (30+ UNKNOWN)_

 **CODE NAME(S):** _PEGASUS, WINGS, THE GUARDIAN ANGEL, OMNIOUS ANGEL_

With steady fingers, he opened the holographic folder sincerely hoping that he was wrong.

News articles, legends, and hundreds of images streamed from the Toolbox; all done sometime in the past 2000 years to the present. Murals, scrolls, paintings, photographs, sketches; all depicting the same face, all describing the same woman.

Director Fury flipped open the manila folder and pulled out the photo of Kaycee Gilbert within. Holding it up in his hand, he compared it with the other holographic images from the toolbox. They were identical. Kaycee Gilbert's facial structure, facial expressions, features, and physical description were identical over the course of 2000 years. Dozens upon dozens of different identities strewn across time; all with the same face, Kaycee Gilbert's face.

"Kaycee Gilbert, just what are you?"


End file.
